E v E
by FarDareisMai2
Summary: A Far-Thea production. Yes, this is a collaborative effort between myself and Gallathea. Eric the Vampire and Eric the Professor meet to discuss their stories. Hilarity ensues.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So, what do Galla and FDM do late at night (or in this case not so late at night) over at Northman's Basement? Well, other than spend the night drinking wine, we come up with ideas. Some are good (I Concentrate On You), some are not (ummm, you really don't want to know), and then others just make us laugh and laugh, and make all the people in the thread look at us like we're insane._

_This little nugget began its inception last night (I think it was last night . . . or was it this morning? GALLA!!! HELP!) when Galla suggested that I write a one-shot with the Eric from Chasing the Light and the Eric from House of Flesh on Fire, each vying for more attention from me, their author. Of course, this degenerated into a big pile of funny._

_This is a totally collaborative effort and, frankly, all the funny parts are Galla's! Really, you must all lick her brain sometime. It's fantastic!_

_Without further ado, Far-Thea presents . . . E v. E . . .  
_

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" Eric snarled, his hand tightening slowly on the man's throat. He could feel the panicked pulse thumping under his thumb, but the blue eyes in front of him refused to back down.

"Get your hands off of me," the professor snapped back.

"No. I don't like you." His fangs slipped out.

"Well, I don't like you either, but we're stuck with each other."

"Oh, really? How do you figure that? If I kill you, you'll be out of my hair, and out of my Sookie's pants," he growled.

"Stop being so alpha-male for five seconds and think about it! And furthermore, I haven't actually been in Ms. Stackhouse's pants yet, you son-of-a-bitch. You're the lucky bastard who has had that particular privilege!"

Eric released his hold on Eric's throat, and said, "I'm listening."

"First of all, do you really think FDM is going to appreciate you killing me off before Ms. Stackhouse and I actually 'do the deed?'"

Eric growled, "Not your best argument. You brought her to orgasm on your sofa and let her blow you under your desk, but you're not even on a first-name basis? If I didn't happen to know that you were patterned after me, I might think you were afraid of her. Does academia really make you that soft?"

"You know damn well that FDM doesn't let me be soft for more than a paragraph or so at a time, vampire. And fine, I'll start calling her Sookie when we're alone. But you need to consider the readers. Can you imagine the pitchfork brigade if that were to happen? Have you seen the psychos that have gone after Zigs? Or Mal? And think about it, Eric, those are wooden pitchforks."

"Do you think I can't defend myself against a few humans and their farm tools?"

Professor Northman ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "A few? Do you realize how many people are reading these two stories?" He shook his head and muttered something about vampire arrogance.

"Also, she isn't 'your' Sookie! This Sookie is 'my' Sookie! And, frankly, I don't want 'your' Sookie. She's so fucked up! Honestly, I thought I have baggage, but I've got nothing on your girl."

"_My_ Sookie," Eric returned icily, "has been through a terrible ordeal, but she will recover. The longer we spend reading about your tormented soul and about how your ridiculous notions of morality are getting in the way of your sexual pleasure, the longer I have to wait in Louisiana while my bonded hides in Norway."

"They aren't 'ridiculous notions of morality'! This is my _job_ we're talking about, and Sookie is barely legal as it is."

The vampire smirked, stretching his legs out on the couch. "You might know that she's older than you think she is if you ever bothered to have a conversation with her."

"What? How old is she?"

"Oh, I don't think I'll tell you. I think I'm going to let you ask her yourself, though I do recommend using some caution. Human women can be a little touchy on the subject of age. I find it amusing."

"Well I suppose I'll never find out, then, because this really does have to stop. If I let this thing, whatever it is, go any further, it's going to be a disaster."

"If that's really what you think, then I believe I will kill you. Dispatching a few disgruntled readers will be of no consequence. FDM will reunite me with my lover, and mark my words, there will be lemons—no more whining about how you'd really love a lemon, but you're terrified of citrusy consequences in the hallowed halls of higher learning."

The vampire moved towards the justifiably frightened professor, who was armed only with his wit, his doctorate, and a first edition volume of "Howl."

"Wait!" The professor cried out, as the vampire descended on him.

"What now?" Eric asked, clearly exasperated.

"I spoke to Gallathea."

The vampire froze in his tracks at the mention of one of the Beta's names. The Betas: the two mythical, goddess-like beings that continually helped birth the stories to life. The two wondrous creatures without whom both his and the professor's lives would be meaningless piles of drivel.

"You? You spoke to Gallathea?"

Eric nodded. "I did, and I happen to know that FDM wrote the next two chapters of your story, and is working on the next."

"Do you know what happens? Are there lemons?"

The professor smirked, clearly enjoying having the upper hand. He leaned against the file cabinet.

"Well now, who's suddenly unsure about just how his reunion is going to go?"

The vampire quickly composed himself, arranging his features to create a carefully-controlled, expressionless mask. "Galla is all for foozling. I know that about this woman. She is one of foozling's biggest fans."

"But Galla isn't writing that fic, is she?" returned the professor. "Moreover, she enjoys FDM's diabolical ways. She owes me for giving her feedback on a paper she wrote on postmodernism and Thomas Pynchon—I read _Gravity's Rainbow_ for her, for fuck's sake—but you should hear how she laughs when FDM comes up with new ways to torture us through Sookie."

The Viking concentrated on the face of his professorial doppelganger, buffeting him with waves of power. "You will tell me what happens next in 'Chasing the Light,' professor. I require spoilers, and I require them now."

"Uh… Eric? I don't think glamour works on a different version of yourself."

Disappointed, the vampire returned to spot he had previously occupied on the sofa. "You are more devious than I gave you credit for, human. I'm beginning to think that we might be of some use to each other."

"How so?"

"Sookie and I have been through much in our time together. I will give you tips on how to get the girl—and stop trying to pretend you don't want her; it's futile, and if it didn't work for me, it certainly won't work for you. In return, you will use your influence on the Betas to procure information for me."

"There are two problems with your idea," said the professor. At a look from the vampire, he continued, "First, I have no contact with Kristin. She is not a Beta on my story. Plus, for all her love of hot, vampire foozling, when was the last time your counterpart in _her_ story got any action? Instead, _that_ Sookie has been busy sneaking around and playing telepathic footsy with Jasper, the bad guy!"

"You have a point," the vampire conceded. "Then we shall concentrate our efforts on Galla. Your second point?"

"I. Can't. Be. With. Sookie. So, what could you possibly offer me to get me to help you?"

Eric shook his head at his human incarnation. "You are a fool if you think you can stay away from her. I've had a thousand years of picking and choosing women, and I could not stay away. What makes you think you can?"

The professor sighed, and closed his eyes. When he opened them he said, "Because I have to, because I can't have someone like her in my life—she's special—and I can't let that . . ."

The vampire cursed softly in another language, effectively cutting him off. "May the gods save me from your angst-driven backstory. I really don't want to know," he huffed. "It seems we are at an impasse. I suppose merely threatening your life in exchange for information won't work?" Suddenly the vampire's eyes lit up, and with preternatural speed, he had the professor pinned to his desk, a dangerously sharp knife pointed at the man's crotch.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The human shouted. "If you do that, I'll never get that ultimate lemon!"

The vampire began to laugh, and stepped back. "I knew I could get you to admit it! Do you hear my laughter? That is the sound of inevitability, my breathing look-alike. It is unfortunate that you will have to wear condoms, however. I have no need of them, but you… you actually might want to stock up at Costco," he said, chuckling. "And perhaps leave a box here in the office."

"You . . . you were bluffing?"

"Of course! Do you think I would ever damage anything as perfect as my Gracious Plenty? You are not a Ken Doll, are you?"

The professor scoffed. "You read the last chapter, and you know I had sex with Felicia. You did read that part, didn't you?"

"I did, and you should listen to your friend. She gives good advice. But if you won't take her word for it, take mine: Thanksgiving is coming up, and you need to invite Sookie over to spend the holiday with you."

"Are you _insane_? You know I can't do that. Besides, I'm sure she's planning to spend Thanksgiving with her family, like every other student."

"You would know, if you did anything other than agonize about her effect on your cock, that Sookie's family is dead, with the exception of her brother, who is about as useful as an umbrella in a hurricane."

"She's on her own?" the professor asked, a furrow appearing in his brow.

"She is. And trust me: bad things happen when Sookie Stackhouse is left alone on major holidays. Have you read 'Gift Wrap'?"

He shook his head no. "Well, don't," the vampire advised. "It's better for both of us if we behave as though 'Gift Wrap' never happened. Fucking fairies…"

"Sookie slept with a gay guy?"

"No, a fairy," corrected the Viking, clearly not cottoning onto the fact that the professor wasn't sure there was a difference.

The professor shook his head. "Whatever, the point is she is a student in my class. I can't have her over to my house! It would be completely improper."

Eric growled in frustration. This human version of himself was completely irritating. If he hadn't "seen" the guy in action—and really, for a human, he did have skills—he would swear that he bore no resemblance to the original. "Would it be 'improper,'" and he used air quotes to make his point, "if you were to invite several students to your home for Thanksgiving? Then, there would be no hint of impropriety. You are just a generous man, opening up your home to those unfortunate students who have nowhere to go. Of course, I would _make sure_ the other students never arrived."

"You. Cannot. Kill. Coeds. Eric! What story do you think we're in—_Sorority House Massacre_?"

At least the vampire had the decency to look somewhat abashed. "Well, can I just kill Bill?" He said, grinning broadly at his own pun.

"You know, I'm not exactly sure why I'm listening to you. You've only managed to sleep with your Sookie once in twenty-four chapters, and a prologue!"

The Viking growled at him. "That is NOT my fault. FDM was set on having some drama, and well, I think it got away from her. If it were up to me, _my _Sookie would never leave the bed except to tend to her human needs," he said with a leer.

"You are a pig."

"And you are me."

"I know," the professor said looking at his couch with fondness. "Fine. I will try to contact Galla again, and ply her for information. It won't be cheap, though. I'll have to make several offerings of wine, and that woman has the tolerance of a biker twice her size. If it were Kristin, I might get away with a couple shots of vodka, but Galla? She worships at Bacchus' altar."

"I have every confidence in your ability to accomplish this task, professor. It won't be as hard as you think; Galla is quite enamored of you."

"She is? I had no idea."

"Have you looked at yourself lately, Eric? Besides, you can quote pornographic seventeenth-century poetry from memory. Is it any wonder that she has a crush on you? Oh, you'll be able to extract information from her, all right. I look forward to receiving your intelligence. Until next time," the vampire said as he opened the door. "Oh, and human? Nice tattoo."


	2. Chapter 2

_FDM's A/N: I know I owe you another chapter of either CTL or HOFOF, but these two really needed talk to each other. Plus, Galla and I just have way too much fun with this! We hope you enjoy it as much as we do.  
_

_Galla's A/N: Because we know you'll ask, "The Lemon Song" is a real Led Zeppelin song, and those are real lyrics. In writing it, the band borrowed from Howlin' Wolf and Robert Johnson. Robert Johnson, in turn, probably borrowed from Arthur McKay's "She Squeezed My Lemon" (1937). We might be able to make up lyrics like this if we tried, but we think it's funnier this way, since you can actually go listen to the song on YouTube yourself if you're so inclined._

_Also, some people have wondered how we're collaborating on this: we're basically just tag-teaming through email and taking turns trying to crack each other up as we add content. Neither of us has had any idea what the other would come up with as we've traded off, and that's been part of what has made the writing process so much fun for us! Of course, we do go back and edit each other's work later to smooth out transitions, but for the most part, this has been an email telephone game._

"Vampire," the professor said, inviting his supernatural counterpart to take a seat. "I would say it's good to see you again, but…"

"Yes, let's skip the preliminaries," replied the Viking. "You know why I'm here. What news do you have from Gallathea?"

The professor sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He did have news, but it probably wasn't going to go over well. "I believe I made a tactical error with the Beta," he admitted quietly. "We went to a local bar, and we started with martinis."

"How many?" the vampire asked coldly, his tone menacing.

"Three. Before the wine."

Eric glared at the human. How hard was it, really, to avoid such a classic blunder? There were only a few basic principles to observe: one, never get involved in a land war in Asia. Two, never go in against a Sicilian vampire when final death is on the line. Three, when plotting to ply a Beta with alcohol in order to obtain spoilers, never, _ever_ start with Bombay Sapphire, vermouth, and olives. Things could go downhill faster than a cliff-side house in Malibu. "Tell me," he ordered simply.

"Well, first, Galla told some story about the time she met Eddie Vedder and completely clammed up, so she just stood there stammering while her friend made plans to meet him later at a party."

"Sounds amusing enough."

"It was—or at least it was, the first time she told the story. Then, she had me read some paper a student of hers had written on Oedipus and Dr. Dre that was actually so terrible that it was hilarious. You should read it; this kid had Oedipus and Dr. Dre smoking a bowl with the makers of Aquafresh toothpaste. Then…"

" 'Chasing the Light,' professor. When did she get to 'Chasing the Light'?"

"Well, I asked her about it, of course," said the nervous professor. "But at that point, the karaoke started..."

"And?"

"She signed me up for 'Eye of the Tiger.'"

"She _what_?" bellowed the Viking, his eyes aglow with rage. He pounded his fist on the desk, nearly cracking it.

"Calm down, Eric," said the professor. "I'm sure she was just messing with me. You and I both know FDM doesn't do Sookie/Quinn pairings. Besides, it gets better."

"I'm listening."

"After I was done, she signed herself up for Led Zeppelin's 'The Lemon Song.'"

"I am not familiar with this song. How does it go?"

"Well, some of the lyrics are off, but there is this one part…"

The vampire gestured towards the professor, silently asking him to continue. The professor cleared his throat.

"_Squeeze me, baby, till the juice runs down my leg. _

_The way you squeeze my lemon,_

_I'm gonna fall right out of bed, yeah."_

"That sounds promising," said the ancient Northman.

"I thought so," agreed the prof.

The vampire paused for a moment. "What do you meant you _thought_ so? Do you no longer think so?"

The professor sighed. "I can't say for certain, but we made our way back to my place so we wouldn't have to shout over the karaoke anymore, and Galla hinted that Sookie discovered something . . . something that may have freaked her out. But by then, we were on our third bottle of wine, which was a shame because it was a lovely 1991 LaTour that I'd been saving for a special occasions, but she insisted . . ."

"That's an expensive bottle of wine, professor," the vampire interrupted.

"Well, what can I say? I can't say no to beautiful, blue-eyed blonds. Wait a minute! What the hell do you know about wine? You can't drink wine."

"Ah, but you forget that I own a bar, among other business interests," he said with a wave of his hand. "Where were you saving this bottle?"

"In my wine cellar, of course," and he shook his head in exasperation.

"Of course," muttered the vampire. "So what is it that Sookie found out? Was it about Hot Rain? I have to make sure I block the bond better. I don't want her to know what I'm doing," the Viking said, as he began pacing.

"Maybe, but I just don't know. Oh, and for the record, you are a sick, sick man. Pickling? Really?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Anyway, like I said, we were on our third bottle of wine, and that's after the martinis, and the next thing I know, she's telling me how much she loves me, and asking if I would be her 'baby daddy!'"

The vampire laughed. "I told you she was enamored of you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't realize just how much until her hands . . ."

"You were intimate with a Beta?" Eric growled.

"NO! No, she grabbed me and began to . . ."

"Have you no respect?!"

"Hey, man! She. Grabbed. Me. What was I supposed to do? She's a Beta, for crying out loud! It's not like I can manhandle her or anything! Particularly not if you want your information. Plus, I didn't sleep with her, if that's what you're worried about."

Eric laughed, "Given your track record, I suppose that really isn't a concern."

"It's not my fault I got cock blocked by my boss!"

"It's always an excuse with you."

"Fuck you."

"Well now, that's the epitome of narcissism, Herr Professor, isn't it? So, what are you going to wear to that Halloween party?"

"I really don't know," answered the professor, thoughtfully. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. I'm just going to blow off some steam at Felicia's, anyway. I could stick on a pair of jeans, a vest, and some boots, and I'll say I'm Jack Nicholson's character from _Easy Rider_ or something. It's not like Felicia would care."

"I'm vetoing that costume. Never dress like a guy who couldn't manage to stay alive for Mardi Gras."

"Oh, you're _vetoing_ it, are you? I suppose you have a better idea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I have this pink lycra ensemble you could borrow…"

"What the hell? You want me to go to a Halloween party dressed as Richard Simmons?"

"I was thinking it would be more of a Tarantino theme—something from _Reservoir Dogs_. You could be Mr. Pink."

"A Steve Buscemi character."

"Yes."

"The funny-looking guy."

"That was _Fargo_."

"Whatever, it's the same actor. The point is, I've got enough on my mind without the entire town wondering whether I'm the college's designated 'sexually ambiguous intellectual.' Why would I even consider a costume like that?"

"Because Sookie likes it," said the vampire, with a smug grin.

"Sookie's not even going to be at that--"

"You never know who's going to show up to a human event, professor," pointed out the Viking, who still hadn't wiped the grin off his face.

"Fuck me," lamented the prof.

"Now you're getting the idea!"

"I'm still not wearing pink lycra."

The vampire regarded his counterpart appraisingly. "I have an animal hide if you want to go more masculine," he said. "It worked very well for me last time I wore it. It has an element of mystique and primitive danger. You know. It's sort of, 'I could pant and let you pet me; I could lure you to a secluded location and rip out your entrails.'"

"Yeah, Eric, that's _exactly_ the impression I want to get across." The professor rolled his eyes.

The Viking shrugged. "Even Tim Gunn liked it," he said. "Pam told me so. She showed him pictures, and he called it 'jungle fabulous' and said he wanted to meet the man who could 'make it work in the woods.' He said an outfit like that could inspire an entire room to go native."

"This is a Halloween party, not an orgy!" cried the exasperated academic. "And besides… wait, Pam knows Tim Gunn?"

"Pam owns a huge chunk of the Bravo network," Eric confirmed.

"Figures," the professor muttered. After a moment he asked, "Do you really think Sookie will be there?"

"I think anything is possible. This is FDM we are talking about. It is also very possible that she'll people the party with blonds in costumes, just to make you crazy." The vampire grinned at him.

"Fuck. Why did I ever think this party was going to be a good idea?"

"You are beginning to try my patience, professor. You will go to this party. You will dress in a manner befitting _our_ looks, and if Sookie is there, you will do something about it."

The professor gaped at the vampire. "What do you mean _do something_? You know I can't!"

The vampire growled. "For fuck's sake, Eric. I have no idea what FDM was thinking patterning you after me." The ancient Viking began muttering in a foreign language. The professor's Swedish was rusty, but he did manage to catch the words, "pussy" and "spineless."

"I am not spineless!"

The vampire laughed. "Yeah, and that's why twelve chapters in, you're still trying to deny that you want her. Here's my advice: when it comes to Sookie, you must open the door when opportunity knocks. She has a tendency to run."

The professor snorted. "Yeah, that's really something coming from you, Mr. No Contact For Five Months After the Nevada Vamp Takeover. You really struck while the iron was hot, didn't you? Then, when you finally decided not to fight your feelings anymore—how very REO Speedwagon of you—Sookie gets snatched from under your nose, and she ends up running halfway around the world to get away from you."

When he came to, there was a slight ringing in his ears and he was flat on his back, with a vampire staring down at him. "That was a very low blow, human. I did what I had to do to protect my woman—_my _Sookie, and at least _I _have the balls to call her that. When she left, she believed she was protecting me."

"You hit me." The professor said, incredulous. "Ignoring, for a moment, how much that fucking hurts, you do realize just how screwed-up hitting yourself is—on a Freudian level—don't you?"

"But you are not really me, are you? If you were, you would be in bed with Sookie right now, hearing those sweet sounds she makes when you . . ."

"I get the point," the professor interrupted, "but it doesn't change the fact that I am you, and you fucking hit yourself! What is this, the Three Stooges?"

"Well, you did need a costume . . ."

"And you need therapy." Eric retorted. "Maybe I should invite Galla to the Halloween party," he mused. "I wouldn't mind seeing her in one of those sexy little 'Goldilocks' costumes." The vampire growled at him, and he backpedaled. "It was just a thought!"

"Human, I am not without sympathy for your dilemma. I know you feel like you need to resist her. I also know you'll never want anyone as much as you want her—will not feel truly fulfilled by anyone except her. And that's why, obviously, you cannot go to England for this special appointment your department head is proposing." The vampire stated this without any doubt.

"What do you mean 'obviously'? There's no 'obviously.' It's an opportunity of a lifetime."

"No, it isn't. It's a job. Sookie is the opportunity of a lifetime. Have you no sense of the bigger picture?"

"I'm getting a little tired of this. There can be no me-and-Sookie, so why don't you just drop it?"

The vampire taunted, though with an air of sadness about him, "If your Sookie is as poorly drawn a recreation of mine, as you are of me, then she isn't much of a catch."

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"You don't know what you're talking about," seethed the human. "My Sookie is intelligent, and warm, and beautiful! And her thoughts on the progression of feminism during the eighteenth . . ."

"HA!" Shouted the vampire, interrupting the professor's rant. "Your Sookie, eh?" He began to laugh. "You are a funny, funny man, professor."

"Fuck y . . . oh, never mind," the human muttered.

As Eric walked out the door, he glanced back at the hapless professor. "Let yourself love her," he advised, "and don't let anything stop you. And when you've done that, love her well. You won't find another like her."

"Skit," the younger Northman threw back in Swedish. The vampire laughed and vanished at the other end of the hall.

_A/N: So, y'all got any ideas for a costume?_


End file.
